You Don't Even Know Me
by doyaknowmycoffeeorder
Summary: "You don't even know me," Blaine breathed shakily. "I don't have to know you," Kurt replied. Blaine Anderson is a young music student with a troubled past. Kurt Hummel is a photographer for Vogue; who's just happened to stumble across the twenty-two year old in his most vulnerable moment without knowing what he's gotten himself into. (Very AU. TW: Suicide.)
1. I don't have to know you

The way that he climbed over the ledge was so smooth, almost surreal. It looked like he was merely climbing over the ledge to get a glimpse at the view, to have a picnic, it was peaceful. The photographer who had stopped to look did not realize he was going to jump. From behind his camera lens, it looked beautiful... and fake, like something from a movie.

Blaine tiptoed closer to the edge- was he really going to do this? He could have a career ahead of him. He could have a life. But none of that seemed to matter. He could feel the wind raking through his messy curls, and inched closer to the edge. It was, however, when he was closing his eyes, feeling the wind scrape past his cheeks, then a hand snatched the back of his jacket.

A hand snatched the back of his jacket.

Blaine felt the breath literally leave his throat.

"I'm not letting you jump," A lovely soprano voice- though clearly male- stated, and he swallowed.

"You don't even know me!" He called over the wind, and the other male tightened his grip.

"I don't care! I'm not letting you jump," The boy stated, patiently, and Blaine bit the inside of his lip.

"Come on."

The boy with the countertenor voice tried to hoist Blaine back over the ledge, and Blaine struggled at first, but eventually let him. He practically toppled into the boy's arms once on the other side, and his eyes were welling with tears and the other boy just held him and shushed him gently. "How old are you? Tell me about yourself. What's your name?"

Blaine blinked back his tears and pulled away. "I-I'm twenty-two. My name is Blaine Anderson."

The other boy's pale hand pushed back the messy curls from Blaine's forehead. "Only twenty-two," He murmured, "You're so young. You've got your whole life ahead of you."

Blaine's bottom lip trembled. The other boy kept talking, and just his lovely voice was soothing.

"You're quite lovely. And I can tell you can sing, just from your voice. Do you sing?"

He was keeping Blaine distracted and it was working.

"I-I'm a music student. I do sing."

The boy, who was taller than Blaine, and he assumed older, looked down at him. "Do you play any instruments? You must be talented, to be a music student."

Blaine sniffled. "I've played piano for as long as I can remember. Guitar, violin, cello, mandolin, harmonica and drums."

He looked slightly impressed, and his blue eyes sparkled. "That's quite a lot. Do you write your own music?"

Blaine nodded shakily.

"I'm impressed. You must be talented, Blaine."

The way his name slipped off the boy's lips was like something out of a fairytale. It was smooth as the melody of a grand piano, and Blaine could grow used to listening to that.

It was a nice distraction, at least.

"W-Who are you?"

The other boy smiled.

"My name, or who I really am?"

The corners of Blaine's lips threatened to quirk into a tiny smile, almost reflexively. "Your name, please."

"My name is Kurt Hummel. I'm nearly twenty-five, and a Vogue photographer."

Blaine was still leaning heavily on the boy- Kurt, it was a lovely name, and it suited him- but neither of them seemed to mind.

They stood, in silence for a while, Blaine had managed to begin to collect himself and Kurt was just holding him.

Kurt hadn't known what he'd gotten himself into, with this troubled boy, but he sure as hell knew he wasn't going to let him jump over the edge.

"You'll be alright," Kurt murmured, and Blaine swallowed, nodding.

"Where do you live? Let me take you home, darling," He said softly.

He just didn't want the poor boy to harm himself if he was left alone. Would he? Would he attempt again?

Kurt didn't even know him.

Blaine sniffled and stated his address, though he was too much of a mess to get home right now, even with Kurt driving him there.

"I don't want you to hurt yourself, Blaine," Kurt said seriously, and Blaine's hazel eyes were more green than brown, he noticed.

Stop it.

"If you think you're going to harm yourself, I want you to come home with me, okay?"

Blaine nodded, and he let out a shaky breath.

"Do you think you will? I need you to let me know."

"I-I don't know," Blaine stammered, and he swallowed, "I might-.."

That was all Kurt needed to hear.

"You're coming home with me, and I want you safe, alright? You're going to be safe."

"You don't even know me," Blaine breathed.

"I don't have to know you," Kurt replied.

He realized Blaine was shaking and he suddenly felt a pang in his chest, giving a soft sigh. "Honey, you're okay. You'll be okay, I promise."

He didn't even know the boy and he was taking him home.

Kurt was _such _a softie. But it was the right thing to do, the poor boy could harm himself again and his hazel eyes looked so damn terrified that it melted Kurt completely.

Poor kid.

Blaine only nodded slowly, and he bit his bottom lip.

Kurt started to lead him to his car slowly. He rubbed circles in the back of Blaine's hand, gently, and opened the passenger side door for Blaine.

Blaine's eyes passed Kurt and his car and lingered on the edge where he'd nearly jumped off, and Kurt was afraid he was thinking of it again.

But he tore his eyes from the ledge and got into the car, and he was no longer shaking.

Kurt smiled.


	2. Why do his thoughts do this?

_Author's Note: This chapter is triggering. You may skip it if you feel it's too triggering. I don't want you hurt. You can always private message me if you need anything, I'm always here. I've attempted myself (ednos, depression, suicidal, and anxiety) and I know that sometimes the little triggers are the worst, and they get you thinking. Which is what these triggers, are, thinking. So just a warning before hand:__** This chapter is triggering.**_

It was as the blue-eyed 'stranger' drove him home, that Blaine suddenly realized he knew nothing about this boy.

He didn't know where he was taking him. He didn't know if he could be some kind of murderer, or something insane like that, and Blaine shouldn't trust him like this but he did.

And it was weird.

They sat in silence, and Blaine realized something else.

He'd yet to thank Kurt Hummel for saving his life.

"Kurt?"

Kurt's blue eyes flickered to the broken boy in his passenger seat. "Mhmm?"

"Thank you."

At Blaine's words, the other boy's lips pulled up into a smile on his porcelain skin. "Sweetie, there's no need to thank me."

Blaine paused, before stating lightly, eyes downcast, "You saved my life."

He got a soft little sigh in response. "I wasn't going to let you take your own life, Blaine."

It was funny how much Blaine felt like he knew him, when he didn't know anything other than his name, his age, and that he works for Vogue as a photographer.

Blaine ducked his head in apology.

"So, tell me about yourself," Kurt stated, a smile yet again quirking up on the corners of his lips.

"What do you want to know?"

"Where did you grow up?"

"Westerville. Ohio," Blaine briefly glanced up at Kurt, who smiled. "That's funny. I'm from Lima. Where did you go to high school?"

"Dalton."

Kurt rolled his eyes. So he was one of those boys. The dapper, preppy, private school heartthrobs.

Blaine crinkled his nose, playfully mocking him.

"What's your family like?"

He bit his lip. "Next question."

Kurt arched an eyebrow, but continued. "Why did you move to New York, all the way from Ohio?"

"I'm trying to get into the music business."

Kurt nodded, and pulled into the driveway. He'd affectively kept Blaine distracted- he was getting better at it, too- for the entire way back.

Blaine's eyes went up and realized it was an apartment building.

He thought they were in Central New York, but he wasn't sure.

Big cities were easy to get lost in, and especially when Blaine had been too shaken up and distracted to pay attention to where they were going.

The last thing he remembered, was a brunette girl chattering to Kurt- "Who's that?" "Oh, he's cute!" and after Kurt muttered something to her, "Oh… my."

He remembered being led to a bedroom, he remembered Kurt looking sadly at the marks on his arms, and he remembered his head hitting the pillow.

That was all that flashed through his mind in the morning when he woke and couldn't figure out where he was.

He remembered last night, the way the ledge had looked under his feet, the way it'd mocked him when he walked away.

He remembered the hand snatching the back of his jacket, the breath leaving his throat.

He remembered falling into someone's arms, being held and driven home.

A feel of immense gratitude filled Blaine, and he turned on his side, blinking and jumping slightly.

There was a boy in the bed next to him.

Kurt Hummel, whom he'd just met last night, was in the bed next to him.

_Well, it's his bed, idiot. You're in his apartment, where else would he sleep? _

Blaine rolled his eyes. He seemed to be the only person awake in the apartment, though from what he remembered last night a little, but loud brunette girl shared it with him.

Kurt stirred beside him and Blaine's eyes flickered over there, and then away.

_What if he'd have done it? What if Kurt Hummel wasn't there? _

Blaine's mind wouldn't shut up.

_What if you did it, would anyone miss you?  
No one would miss you. _

Shut up.

Blaine bit his bottom lip- why did his thoughts do this? He lost control of them, they spiraled out of his reach and he hated it.

_It's only true. _

_No one would miss you. _

He groaned lightly. He had officially gone insane- even his mind hated him now.

He knew he could distract himself, instead of whirling into insanity, but something was so inviting, so comforting, about sleeping forever.

_You should've done it. _

_You know you wish you'd have done it. _

Kurt's blue eyes fluttered open and he yawned, looking towards Blaine, whose lovely hazel eyes were racing and he looked panicked and then troubled and then sad and Kurt frowned.

He didn't even know the boy, but Kurt was worried and he'd taken an attachment to the poor thing.

"Are you alright?"

Blaine seemed to snap out of his thoughts, and his mind went silent.

"Yeah- yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking."

Kurt tilted his head.

"Are you lying to me?"

Blaine blinked. "No, I'm fine. Honestly."

Kurt seemed to contemplate if he was really fine, and looking into Blaine's hazel eyes he decided, that a moment ago, he wasn't, but now everything was fine.

He hoped.


	3. Rachel Berry

_Author's Note: Three updates in three days is not usual for me. Okay, and finally, a relatively happier chapter, thank God. I'm just torturing poor Blaine._

* * *

It was silent.

Well, silent besides the girl beside Blaine talking his ears off.

Blaine, Kurt and that little brown-haired girl sat around a round table in the kitchen. He'd learned her name was _Rachel Berry,_ she went to school with Kurt for her whole life, never stopped talking, and had her entire future planned out. She was going to graduate NYADA, spend her career on Broadway, marry someone named _Finn Hudson, _and have three children, two girls and a boy.

This was slightly overwhelming to Blaine.

She also nearly set the kitchen on fire this morning, which Kurt had to inevitably fix. Blaine didn't even know them, and had smiled more this morning than he had in the past year.

It was weird. Weird, but inviting.

"Rachel," Kurt finally interrupted, and she stopped talking, blinked. "What?"

"Shut up."

Blaine ducked his head to hide a smile. Kurt shot Rachel a look when she opened her mouth to bicker with him, and then it went silent for the first time since last night.

It was a comfortable silence, as it had been between Kurt and Blaine, and not an awkward one. Blaine didn't feel the need to fill every silence with chatter.

"So Blaine," Kurt started after a while, "Where are you in school?"

Blaine looked up from his plate.

"NYU."

Both of the others nodded. "Kurt and I are at NYADA," Rachel informed him, and Kurt hissed- "He knows,"- which Blaine was not really supposed to hear, but he did anyway.

Rachel's constant chatter had overwhelmed Blaine at first- the abundant questions, the way her voice changed in dynamics when she spoke about something she was interested in (for instance, they'd had a conversation about Broadway this morning, and Rachel had squealed three times.) But Kurt had calmed her down a bit.

Blaine had managed to direct the conversation away from himself for the most part. He needed a break, and the suicidal part of his mind hadn't given him a problem since waking up earlier.

Thank God.

His anxiety hadn't been set off either; which was good, and he hadn't found a numerous load of triggers in this apartment, which was another good thing.

That wasn't what he preferred to think about though. He focused back in on Kurt and Rachel, who were both staring at him.

He must have zoned out. He found he did that quite often.

Blaine blinked, looking between the two of them, suddenly feeling self-conscious again.

"Were you saying something?"

Rachel nodded slowly, and Kurt shot him a look that asked if he was okay.

It was weird, how easily they could read each other when they had literally just met last night. Blaine nodded.  
"Rachel was just asking what you planned to do with your music, since you're a music student," Kurt told him.

"Oh," Blaine started, "I want to get it published, if I can."

Kurt had discovered that unless he questioned the smaller boy, he mostly kept to himself. He watched him carefully- how could someone, someone so perfect be so broken? He didn't understand. He didn't expect to either. Because, how could someone as naïve as Kurt, understand something as complex as the reason for Blaine's troubles?

He realized the both of them had been zoning out quite a bit, and maybe it was the fact he was up at midnight getting him home, but something seemed to be on Blaine's mind. Something Kurt could never, and would never understand, no matter how hard he tried.

Rachel began to blabber on something about 'aiming for Broadway', and Kurt slid closer to Blaine.

"Just ignore her," He said quietly, and Rachel didn't even notice. "Are you alright?"

That was the third time he'd been asked that today by just Kurt. It was weird- no one worried about him, not usually, but Kurt had found him dangling off the George Washington Bridge last night and so he had the right to worry as much as he wanted to.

"I'm fine," Blaine murmured back.

And he was, he was fine for the time being.

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

Kurt gave a little half smile that Blaine could not help but find cute, and Rachel finally stopped talking when she realized they weren't listening. She shot Kurt a look, and went silent, instead of talking both of their ears off, as she had been earlier.

They finished breakfast and Kurt insisted on putting Blaine's plate away for him, even after Blaine told him that it was not a hassle.

Kurt put everything away and whirled around to face the smaller boy. "Do you want me to take you home?" He spoke gently, and Blaine seemed to hesitate. At home, he would have no one there to distract him from his mind, unless he distracted himself.

He should stop being so terrified of himself.

But he couldn't.

"It's not a problem, honestly, honey," Kurt looked at him. "You can stay here, or I can drive you home."

Blaine still seemed to hesitate, though his cheeks flushed and he ducked his head at the endearing pet name. Kurt used those often and Blaine was not sure why, but it wasn't as if he minded.

"You can take me home," He finally stated, and then Kurt smiled.

"Let me take you out to coffee first."


	4. Coffee

_Author's Note: All of your reviews are amazing! Sorry I haven't updated earlier, and no, you will not find out Blaine's background/past quite yet (: Also, I apologize in advance if this chapter sucks. It's kind of a filler chapter._

* * *

Blaine found himself sitting in a booth across from Kurt, listening to the boy go on and on about his family and his dad and whatever else Blaine asked him about.

He found that Kurt could really talk, and then animated tone in his voice when Blaine asked him about something that meant a lot to him, amused Blaine. It wasn't like Rachel- he wasn't loud, or excessively talking too much, or frightening.

He was just interesting.

Therefore, Blaine had done just that. He asked Kurt multiple questions, about anything he could think of, and the other boy had seemed to notice Blaine didn't want to talk about himself.

Blaine sipped his coffee.

Hazel eyes, more hunter green than chocolate brown, flitted back and forth at the expressions crossing over the caramel-haired boy's features and he smiled.

"Your dad sounds nice," Blaine commented absentmindedly, and Kurt smiled. "He is."

There was only a brief pause of silence, and then Kurt asked, "So, what's your family like?"

Blaine chewed on the inside of his lip.

"Uh… I have an older brother, who's in LA as of now."

"What's he doing in Los Angeles?"

"Acting. He thinks he's the next big thing." Blaine rolled his eyes. He'd prefer not to talk about his family at all, but if he had to, he'd rather speak of Cooper than his parents.

Kurt's lips pulled up into a smile. "Just thinks he is?"

"Yeah. Cooper thinks he's amazing. He's only been in like commercials and little things like that." Pride and joy of their parents, Blaine thought sickly.

Blaine was searching for a way to turn the conversation back to Kurt in his mind, but it was hard- the other boy kept asking questions and Blaine didn't want to be rude and ignore them.

"Are you two close?"

Kurt felt like he was pressuring Blaine into answering multiple questions- literally, this was like a game- but he wouldn't talk about anything that had to do with himself unless Kurt asked.

"I suppose. We used to be tighter, but he moved away when I was eleven. You said you have a brother, right? What's he like?"

Kurt knew Blaine was directing the conversation away from himself. Again. However, he went with it- the poor kid had enough troubles without having to talk about something he didn't want to with Kurt.

"Mhmm," Kurt hummed. "Step-brother. He's great."

Another silence.

Strangely enough, it wasn't awkward. Just kind of comfortable.

_Comfortable_.

Blaine did not know why he felt _comfortable _around Kurt; when it had taken him years to trust the person he used to be best friends with.

Maybe it was somewhat nice. Maybe he liked it.

Maybe he liked being able to trust someone without a second thought.

_Was there anything wrong with that? _

No. There wasn't.

So why did he feel like it was so strange?

What the _fuck _was wrong with him?

Kurt leant forward on the table.  
"What's on your mind?" He could tell there was something.

His words pulled Blaine from his mental tug of war, and he blinked.

"Everything."

He was surprised at himself for not lying through his teeth- _nothing, nothing at all. _

One slim, chestnut eyebrow rose.

Nevertheless, the look in his bottle glass blue eyes was clearly concern, and nothing more.

"Everything?"

"Everything."

Blaine didn't elaborate. Kurt didn't question him.

Good thing, because Blaine wouldn't have been able to explain it. _Everything. _

He found that he was losing himself in his thoughts again.

Couldn't he just have one day, just one day- an hour, even- where he didn't absolutely loathe himself?

Where he didn't feel that he was close to breaking.

Where he didn't feel that there was something so fucking wrong with him that no one could fix it.

His coffee had grown cold long ago, and the cup was nearly empty.

Kurt's eyes lingered on his expression.

He didn't want to drive the other boy home.

He didn't want to drive him home, because for all he knew Blaine was _crumbling _and here he was.

Taking him home.

Kurt suddenly felt absolutely awful.

He stood, and tossed his coffee in the garbage bin beside the table. Blaine did the same.

"Come on," He said softly, and tugged him towards the door. The smaller boy didn't object. He owed Kurt, he really did and who was he to protest?

When they got back into the car, Kurt turned it around.

Blaine noticed.

"Where are we going?" He looked up, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"You didn't think I was actually going to let you go home, did you?"

Now, Blaine was thoroughly confused.

"You're going to stay with me until I'm sure you're alright, okay? Then I won't worry so much about you."

Blaine opened his mouth to speak but just nodded, slowly. He didn't know why Kurt was so worried about all of this- maybe he'd have to improve his lying.

"And don't give me that look," Kurt mumbled. "Don't say I have nothing to worry about because you're a bad liar."

That was enough to prove Blaine's point.

But instead of looking irritated, his eyes danced, amused, and he bit back a smile.

This should be interesting.


	5. Hushed Conversations

_**Trigger Warning for this chapter.**_

Rachel had shot Kurt an odd look when he reentered the room with Blaine, but she did not ask questions because of the look she got back. It was becoming less…awkward now, less than Blaine had expected, and Kurt seemed to like to fill the silences with chatter. But he was doing less of that, now.

He spent the night again, and things were going smoothly.

Things were going smoothly.

And he'd eventually, by the next night, convinced himself he was fine.

It was odd, feeling _fine _when he hadn't felt _fine_ in any way three nights ago.

Was it coincidental that he'd met Kurt on that bridge?

Was it coincidental that he happened to catch Blaine, right before he stepped off?

Was it only coincidental that he felt so strangely comfortable around him?

It couldn't be.

_Blaine was a dreamer. He always had been. _

And even then, on that bridge, _it'd been like a dream. _

The feeling of the wind in his curls- breathlessly looking down, inching closer.

Inching closer to the edge.

When Kurt had snatched the back of that leather jacket.

When his breath had completely left him in a gasp.

Blaine stared at the ceiling.

He wondered why he did it.

He wondered why he bothered.

But he didn't dare ask- they were lying in bed, it was late, Kurt's eyes were closed.

He envied him.

He envied how perfectly kind he was. He envied his seemingly perfect life. He envied how quickly he was able to fall asleep, while the little dark-haired boy laid, mind racing.

Blaine covered his face with his hands, letting out his breath. He couldn't control his own thoughts, and that was the terrifying part.

Eventually- eventually, later, he finally drifted off.

And when he woke in the morning, he was alone. His eyes traveled over to the other side of the bed; but there was no sign of Kurt Hummel. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, yawned, and reached for the other boy by habit, but he wasn't there.

So he left the room, only to find Rachel and Kurt talking in hushed voices in the kitchen.

They both froze when he entered the other room, and Kurt blinked before smiling. Rachel's eyes traveled between both of them.

"Blaine! You're awake!" There was something a bit odd in his voice- forced enthusiasm, maybe? Kurt passed a plate of eggs and bacon towards Blaine, who mumbled a little thanks under his breath.

He looked back to Rachel, who seemed to be carrying on their whispered conversation with her brown eyes.

"Later," Kurt hissed, and she stopped, nearly instantly.

It was strange to still be here, to still be around people and not alone with his thoughts, but he couldn't say he didn't like it- that would be most surely a lie.

And although he wondered what they were talking about earlier, he was sure it wasn't meant for him to hear.

There had been nearly no incidents, besides a few nightmares here and there, but who would want to go back to the lonely apartment Blaine stayed in?

He just didn't want to be bothersome.

But he wasn't sure if he could handle staying alone. He was twenty-two. Surely he could look after himself.

However, that was the thing. That was the big issue. Blaine was absolutely terrified of himself; what he'd do to himself, how he didn't care.

That was the big issue.

He felt instantly stupid for being deathly afraid of himself: but when he could take a knife to his skin and not even flinch, and find it relieving- it was pretty goddamn horrifying.

_Kurt probably thought he was insane. _

At least he hadn't jumped on the idea of getting rid of Blaine like his parents did.

At least he hadn't jumped on the idea of throwing Blaine at a therapist like his parents did.

_Stop._

He forced himself to concentrate on the conversation, on the meal in front of him, and stop wallowing in self-pity.

So he zoned back into the conversation, realizing it was carrying on around him when Rachel and Kurt took seats beside him at the round table.

They were chattering, chattering nonstop, because that's what Kurt and Rachel did.

It did feel a bit more welcome, the talking, instead of icy, awkward, silences every other sentence. Blaine didn't do a lot of talking himself, so it was nice to be around people who did.

He was just grateful. Always grateful. Grateful, because Kurt could've left him on that bridge and he could've been dead by now. Grateful, because Kurt could've thought he was being melodramatic, stupid, childish- but he didn't.

Thank God he didn't. That wasn't what Blaine needed- he needed someone who could understand him, mend him. Not someone to strike him down even further.

He had to stop doing this. Randomly zoning out. Losing himself in his own thoughts.

He lifted his head and tried to pay attention to the conversation. Only this time, neither of them noticed he wasn't really there.


End file.
